Target: Rabaul (41 page)

Nearby,
Princeton’
s Fighting Squadron 23, led by Lt. Cmdr. Henry L. Miller, sent nineteen Hellcats aloft, followed by seven torpedo bombers from Composite Squadron 23.
^*
No aborts or mishaps marred either launch cycle. Forming a combined strike force of ninety-seven aircraft, the two air groups joined up as they climbed and headed northwest toward Rabaul.

At the bottom of the stacked formation, each big Avenger lugged a 2,200-pound Mark 13 aerial torpedo with a five-hundred-pound torpex warhead. Above them, the centerline trapeze sling of each SBD held a thousand-pound general purpose bomb. Clifton’s sixteen Hellcats separated into four-plane divisions and slid into assigned positions at all four corners of the formation. Dosé’s sixteen Hellcats flew approximately two thousand feet above the bombers in medium cover, while Miller led
Princeton’
s F6Fs in high cover, another two thousand feet above Dosé. One additional Hellcat, flown by Lt. j.g. Stanley K. Crockett, joined Roberts to provide close escort for Caldwell.

Because of the short turnaround from concept to launch, there had been no opportunity for the two air groups to coordinate assignments or doctrine. During the first half of the two-hour flight to Rabaul, the group and squadron commanders worked out the mechanics of the raid using their VHF radios. Normally, strict radio silence would be observed to reduce the possibility of detection by the enemy, but the VHF radios only had line-of-sight range, making them ideal for plane-to-plane communications. When the details were finalized, squadron commanders passed the necessary instructions to their division leaders.

Visibility was excellent as the formation passed the southern tip of New Ireland and turned north over Saint George’s Channel. Scattered clouds, estimated at two-tenths coverage, let the aviators see Rabaul easily from fifty miles away. As they drew closer, the attackers could scarcely believe their luck.

Thanks to Thurber’s bold plan, the carrier planes had hit the jackpot. Six of Kurita’s heavy cruisers were moored there. Only
Chokai
was absent, having detached on November 4 to escort two ships back to Truk. In addition to the heavy cruisers, the harbor was crowded with targets: three light cruisers, eleven destroyers, and numerous noncombatants. The strike had been perfectly timed. Only a few hours earlier, shortly past dawn, Kurita’s force had glided into Simpson Harbor. A few heavy cruisers were still refueling; others rode quietly at anchor.

Caldwell had determined—much like the B-25 strafer squadrons three days earlier—that the least hazardous profile would be to attack the enemy ships from the direction of Crater Peninsula and then egress straight out of the harbor. The formation skirted Cape Gazelle as Caldwell led them over the tiny Credner Islands. He steered the formation to the east of Crater Peninsula, remaining over Saint George’s Channel all the way to the village of Tavui on the peninsula’s northern tip. There the formation wheeled to the left in a 180-degree turn, rolling out on a reciprocal heading that would bring the attackers directly over Simpson Harbor. Simultaneously, the SBDs and TBFs began a gradual descent to their pushover altitude of ten thousand feet.

The downside to this approach was that it required an additional seven minutes, giving the Japanese plenty of time to scramble up to seventy interceptors, depending on the source. Most were
Reisen
variants from veteran carriers
Zuiho
and
Zuikaku
, whose air groups had deployed to Rabaul as part of Operation
Ro-Go
; probably less than twenty were launched by the Eleventh Air Fleet, and five inline-engine Judys of Air Group 501 climbed from Lakunai airdrome toting aerial burst phosphorus bombs.

While the formation worked its way around Crater Peninsula, the enemy fighters were observed in several groups. “We looked up with utter astonishment,” recalled Harper. “Way above us—it was just mind-boggling. With the number of airplanes and the altitude advantage they had, they should have decimated us.”

None of the
Reisens
, however, tried to attack the tightly grouped formation. Many of the Japanese were not yet familiar with the boxy blue F6Fs. They apparently expected the American fighters to break away from the main formation, which would have opened the door for other interceptors to bounce the dive-bombers and torpedo planes from up sun. But Clifton held his fighters in close, and throughout the entire approach phase, the enemy pilots kept a respectful distance.

The Zeros were also not inclined to expose themselves to their own antiaircraft guns, which cut loose as the American formation approached from the north. “The antiaircraft fire over the harbor area was of terrific intensity,” reported members of Fighting 12. “The shore batteries and the ships in the harbor put up a barrage from heavy and automatic guns which covered all levels from 10,000 feet on down. The CLs (heavy cruisers) and CAs (light cruisers) fired their largest guns.”

Still the Hellcats maintained their position. The tightly grouped formation made an easy target for the Japanese gunners, and fighters on the outside of the formation took hits almost immediately. Lieutenant junior grade Tom G. Atwell, assigned to cover the torpedo planes, was the first fighter knocked down. He headed south over the Gazelle Peninsula at six thousand feet, his engine operating with at least partial power—but that was the last anyone saw him. A second F6F, piloted by Lt. J. A. Smith of VF-23, was seen to fall after taking a direct hit. Other planes received damage but stayed in formation.

Reaching the shoreline of Simpson Harbor, Newell’s dive-bombers deployed to go after hastily selected targets. This was the signal for the torpedo bombers to separate into small groups and maneuver into their dropping positions. With Harrington calling out assignments, the TBFs descended rapidly, making big S-turns to prevent overshooting the cruisers. Leveling off at approximately 250 feet, the pilots throttled back to under 225 knots, the maximum recommended speed for torpedo release, and went after their targets.

Caldwell remained at ten thousand feet, keeping his Avenger in a gentle left turn so he could observe the attack and call out recommendations. Standing in the cramped compartment behind Caldwell’s armor-plated seat, Paul Barnett pointed his camera past the leading edge of the left wing and photographed Simpson Harbor, where the cruisers were trying desperately to get underway.

High above the Japanese warships, the pilots of Bombing 12 performed wingovers at prescribed intervals, acquiring the separation needed for their dives.
Next they extended huge perforated flaps to control their speed, then tipped into near-vertical dives. Here the months of extensive training paid off. Committed to their dives, the SBDs were individual entities, each pilot solely responsible for the success or failure of his thousand-pound bomb.

Facing aft, the rear seat gunners were nearly on their backs as the Dauntlesses plummeted earthward. During the two-mile plunge, one of the gunners provided commentary over the intercom. At the beginning of the dive, Aviation Radioman First Class Myles C. James reported to his pilot, Lt. j.g. John V. Lucas, that most of the antiaircraft bursts were behind the plane. Then the accuracy and intensity of the gunnery improved. “They are hitting on our left now,” James reported. Moments later he added, “They are hitting on our right … I give up; they are all around us.”

After releasing his bomb over a “
Tone
-class cruiser,” Lucas hauled back on the joystick in a high-g pullout. The SBD was rocked by a direct hit. Smoke began to fill the cockpit. Lucas keyed the intercom, trying to raise his young gunner, but James did not respond.

Lucas’s bomb narrowly missed
Chikuma
, causing minor damage to her hull and machinery. Bristling with antiaircraft weapons, including eight 5-inch guns and nearly sixty 25mm rapid-fire cannons, the heavy cruiser may well have hit Lucas’s SBD from behind as it pulled out. The shell impacted the center of the rear compartment on the starboard side, probably killing James instantly.

Over the next few minutes, in clusters of two or three planes,
Saratoga’
s dive-bombers roared down on the anchored or slow-moving cruisers. The 661-foot
Maya
, a heavy cruiser of the
Takao
class, had just cast off her fueling lines and was barely underway when a bomb, possibly dropped by Newell, hit the scout plane deck on the port side. The explosion wrecked the aircraft deck, deformed the hull, and started an intense fire that spread belowdecks to the number 3 engine room. The explosion and subsequent blaze caused 130 casualties, including 70 crewmen killed.

Another heavy bomb hit
Takao
on the main deck just to starboard of the number 2 turret, killing twenty-three crewmen. With two main turrets damaged,
Takao
eventually returned to Japan for repairs.

Heavy cruiser
Atago
, also of the
Takao
class, was still refueling when three SBDs attacked. All three bombs missed by fifty feet or less, hitting the water in a tight grouping just off the port side amidships. Concussion and scything steel splinters proved lethal for twenty-two members of the crew. One of the unfortunates was commanding officer Capt. Nobuki Nakaoka, killed by a bomb fragment while standing the bridge.

Another heavy cruiser,
Mogami
, suffered extensive damage from a hit almost identical to the one that damaged
Takao
. Still at anchor,
Mogami
was struck by a thousand-pounder that penetrated the main deck between the first two turrets, slightly to starboard, and detonated on the middle deck. The explosion inside the confined space caused major damage to both sides of the hull and both decks, and
started intense fires. Nineteen crewmembers were killed, and deliberate flooding of the forward magazines was necessary to prevent the flames from reaching the eight-inch ammunition. With the magazines fully flooded,
Mogami’s
bow settled to within about seven feet of the harbor surface.

Among the heavy cruisers, only
Suzuya
managed to avoid hits or damaging near misses from the dive-bombers. Two of the three light cruisers did sustain damage.
Agano
, slightly damaged three days earlier during the B-25 attack, suffered a near miss by a thousand-pounder that damaged a high-angle antiaircraft gun and killed one sailor. No bombs landed near
Noshiro
, but the cruiser’s thin hull was holed by strafing. The pilot responsible may have been Lt. Cdr. Vincent W. Hathorn, executive officer of Bombing 12. After releasing his bomb over
Chikuma
, Hathorn pulled out of his dive and found himself “face-to-face with the eight-inch guns of a Jap cruiser.” The warship seemed to be firing everything it had at Hathorn, and at point-blank range. “The only thing I could think of doing,” he stated later, “was pull my gun switch and give him return fire from my two fixed .50-caliber guns.”

With twenty-two bombs—many of which narrowly missed their targets—Newell’s SBDs had damaged five of the six heavy cruisers in Simpson Harbor. Two destroyers,
Amagiri
and
Fujinami
, received minor damage from near misses.

Next came the torpedo squadrons. Coordinating their attacks to commence as soon as the SBDs pulled out of their dives, the Avenger crews of Torpedo Squadron 12 and Composite Squadron 23 were under pressure. Their low, slow approaches exposed them to withering enemy gunfire, and the U.S. Navy had achieved poor results with aerial torpedoes throughout the first two years of the war.

One reason was the torpedoes. Whether launched by submarines or dropped from aircraft, American torpedoes suffered from a high percentage of duds and misses. Unfortunately for Harrington, the results achieved on November 5 were typical. All the TBFs dropped their “fish” except one, which hung up in the bomb bay. Set to run at a depth of eight feet, the torpedoes were reported as running straight and true, yet only five definite hits were claimed. The crews’ after-action reports included diagrams with hand-drawn silhouettes of the various cruisers attacked, each showing the specific location where the torpedo allegedly exploded. Contrary to the claims, Japanese records indicate only two actual hits, both of which turned out to be duds. The light cruiser
Noshiro
received minor hull damage from one, and the destroyer
Fujinami
suffered a leaking fuel tank from the other. The torpedo’s collision with the light hull of the destroyer killed one crewman and wounded nine.

For the American fliers, the hardest part of the strike was yet to come. Twisting and weaving between ribbons of tracer fire, the pilots pushed hard on the throttle as they flew through a curtain of fire. Jinking, skidding, pulling up occasionally to hop over a ship in their path, they looked for friendly planes to join with.

Now the Zeros attacked aggressively, trying to force planes out of formation and overwhelm them. Clifton’s Hellcats were still close by, however, leading to dozens of individual engagements. Some of the Zeros that tried to attack dive-bombers or
torpedo bombers were jumped by Hellcats. Like a swirling gang fight, the encounters were short and vicious. No pilot could focus for long on an opponent, lest he get hit by an opportunistic enemy.

The high-speed melee moved progressively farther from Rabaul. Surprisingly,
Saratoga’
s aircraft escaped from the caldera with only one additional loss. Bombing 12’s Lt. j.g. Arthur L. Teall, shot down over the harbor, was picked up by the Japanese and imprisoned in the Kempeitai compound. (The fate of his rear gunner is unknown.) Atwell, shot down by antiaircraft fire early in the strike, was the only other
Saratoga
flier knocked down by Zeros or antiaircraft fire.

Princeton’
s fliers suffered higher casualties. Two of the seven Avengers from Composite Squadron 23 were shot down outright, and a third suffered total hydraulic failure. Upon reaching the carrier, it ditched alongside
Princeton
and stayed afloat long enough for all three crewmembers to escape. Two other Avengers landed aboard with battle damage deemed repairable on the ship.